


Hyper-8 Nova

by ultharkitty



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 13:04:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty/pseuds/ultharkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blast Off catches a euphoria virus. Vortex tries to keep him out of trouble.</p><p>Contains: fluff, behaviour-altering virus, crack, hand-feeding, tactile</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hyper-8 Nova

**Author's Note:**

  * For [naboru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/naboru/gifts).



**Cybertronian Newsfeeds, Network 7, morning broadcast**

"In other news, a bizarre new virus has taken to the airwaves. A mutated strain of the illegal street drug Hyper-8, Hyper-8 Nova has the potential to make you think you want to hug a turbo-fox. Here's Slamdance with the low-down on this odd new development."

"Thankyou, Groundbreaker. Here in the so-called foothills of the rich bot's playground, The Towers, you expect to find certain types of wildlife. What you don't expect to find is _this_. What you're seeing is security footage from the many cameras stationed on the main boulevard. And yes, those people _are_ hugging and petting turbo-foxes. I have with me one of the people featured. Maxima, what's all this about?"

"I couldn't help myself. I accepted a patch from the net, like usual. I thought it was legit, so I authorised it. Turned out it was this virus. The next thing I knew I was hugging everyone I could find. My co-workers, the conductor on the transit I took home, this cute little turbo-fox I heard rooting around in the trash. No, not cute. Sorry, it hasn't quite purged yet. Bleugh."

"This is most irregular. You say the patch appeared to be from a legitimate source?"

"Sure, although I didn't look too closely. The government has a duty of care to stop this kind of thing happening, it's-"

"Of course it's a concern. What happened once you got home?"

"I... I heard the c... the turbo-fox, so I went outside and took it some oil. And it looked all sweet there grubbing around in the trash. So I gave it an energon gummy and I kinda gained its trust and now I'm on the news for petting vermin. I suppose it's kinda funny when you think about it, but the government really-"

"Have you experienced any other effects?" 

"Huh? No, none. Just... this feeling that everyone's really nice and I... like them all and need to express that. Even to the turbo-foxes. I could've caught anything off that _thing_. Anything at all! I could be laying in a hospital bed with cosmic rust! I could-"

"I'm sure our viewers will be very grateful that you're not. Also here with me I have beta-class airframe Flare. You're a disease specialist at the University of Iacon, am I correct?"

"Yes."

"What can you tell us about beta-class groundframe Maxima's strange affliction?"

"Well, Slamdance, it's not especially dangerous, we do know that. It began life as the euphoria-inducing drug Hyper-8, which we believe was developed in an underground lab somewhere between Kaon and Polyhex about five vorns ago. All illegal viruses developed for recreational use have an in-built redundancy-"

"In layman's terms, please."

"They kill themselves off after a certain time so that the addict has to go back for more. But Hyper-8 mutated, and developed the capacity for airborne contamination. It masquerades as a software patch which looks at first glance to be genuine."

"But it's not."

"No, Slamdance, it sure isn't. Each contaminated individual acts as a transmitter, sending out these fake patches to everyone in their contacts list - although the virus changes the details of the sender to make it look as though it came from an authorised commercial or governmental source."

"So it spreads by tricking people?"

"It does, yes."

"How can our viewers tell if they're affected?"

"They'll experience a small rise in core temperature, although not enough to trigger increased ventilation. The main symptom is psychological, a sensation of extreme well-being and the intense desire to spread that around."

"It doesn't sound so bad!"

"On the face of it, no. But as we've seen here today it can cause embarrassing incidents. Afflicted individuals are far more affectionate than normal, and there's the potential for significant social unease."

"How long will it last?"

"The virus burns itself out in two to three days."

"What can people do to protect themselves?"

"It's the same old story. Don't accept a software patch unless you know where it's from. Double-check everything that wants access to your programming. The only cure we have is a forced software purge, which frankly isn't worth the bother for something like this. My best advice for the contaminated would be keep to your home until you feel yourself again, and send a blanket warning to all your contacts about your condition."

"Well there we have it. This is Slamdance logging out. Back to Groundbreaker in the studio."

* * *

"Good work," Blast Off said. He raised his hand, as though to pat his assistant on the shoulder, then lowered it again. "Calculate the alternate routes and send them to me by fifteen hundred joors tomorrow."

Gigabyte nodded. "Sir," she said. "And what about the T-fifteen-forty-Aressa consignment?"

Blast Off sighed. "It's arrived?"

"Five astroseconds ago. It's in loading bay six. Would you like me to call Swindle and demand he take it away again?"

"Ugh... No. Put it in delta storage. And tell Swindle if he ever sends a delivery off schedule again I will personally... I will..."

"Authorise me to transform to tank mode and ride right over his smug stupid face?" Gigabyte asked. 

Blast Off touched his forehead, his optics flickering. "Um, yes. That, exactly that."

"Very good." Gigabyte ticked another item from her list. "That just leaves your meeting," she said.

"Meeting? I'm afraid I don't..."

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, perfectly." Blast Off rebooted his optics again and looked at her. When he spoke, he sounded confused. "It's... very kind of you to ask." 

"It is?" Gigabyte shook herself, her treads rattling. "O _Kay_... It says here you're booked in for lunch with Vortex."

"Really? That'll be nice."

"Sir, you don't sound yourself. Should I call for one of the med team?"

"Oh no," Blast off said, a strange little smile tugging at his mouth. "I'm perfectly fine. I'll be in my office. When Vortex arrives send him straight through." 

Gigabyte gave him a look. "Uh," she said, her jaw dropping as he patted her happily on the shoulder and wandered off to his office, humming.

* * *

"Beep," Vortex said, pushing his way into Gigabyte's office without pressing the buzzer. "Not interrupting anything am I?"

Gigabyte kept her optics on her monitor. "It was a party in here until you opened the door." She couldn't suppress a smirk. "He's in, you can go through."

Vortex grinned. "He's in a good mood?"

"Actually, yes," Gigabyte said. "Only..."

"Only what?"

"Well... He's not exactly himself. I'm sure it's nothing, but he's more... cheerful than usual."

"Really?" Vortex's grin widened. 

"Yeah, it's odd. I thought about calling a medibot, but he says he's OK, so..." She shrugged.

Vortex glanced at her treads. "Why haven't I taken you out before?"

"Because I'm a museums and art galleries kinda gal," Gigabyte said, "and you're a 'behind the filing cabinets, keep quiet or people will hear' kinda guy."

"I don't keep quiet! But seriously, let me buy you a drink sometime." 

"Sometime," Gigabyte said. "Maybe. Do you still go drinking with Swindle?"

Vortex pulled a face. "You want in on _Swindle?_ "

Gigabyte laughed. "I need a favour. Can you have a quiet word with him. He sent another delivery here without scheduling it first, and it's put a crimp in my entire orn. I've had to set a few things back because of it, and if he does it again it's going to start costing Onslaught money."

"And you can't threaten him yourself?" Vortex said, his grin returning. 

"Oh I could," Gigabyte answered. "And I will, but it's not me that's got his little green engine running hot. I think your words might carry more weight than mine."

"Sure," Vortex said. "I can do that. Are you free on the sixth? I know this arty bar with crystals and scrap, could be your scene."

Gigabyte focused on her monitor again. "Ask me again when you've invited at least five more people," she said. "Now go through, you're already late. You know he abhors lateness."

Vortex did something with his rotors that Gigabyte only just caught in her peripheral vision, and made his way through to Blast Off's door. For the fifteenth time that quartex, Gigabyte found time to be grateful that she wasn't into heliformers. 

* * *

"Sorry I'm late," Vortex said as he stepped into Blast Off's office. 

"It isn't a problem," Blast Off replied, his cultured voice as always buzzing straight through Vortex's interface array. "I've cancelled our reservation."

And the other office chair had been relegated to the corner. In full knowledge that he couldn't drill his way further into Blast Off's bad humour, Vortex sat on the edge of the tidy desk and shrugged. "We can get takeout."

"That's what I was thinking," Blast Off replied. He glanced up from his console, fingers still tapping away. "It isn't fair to make the staff wait with an empty table, Iridescence can get so busy at this time of day. Excuse me while I finish this message."

Vortex waited, watching the shuttle's fingers. Gigabyte hadn't been wrong, this was odd. 

"There, done." Blast Off logged out of his console and looked up brightly. "What would you like?"

"Huh?"

"To refuel." Blast Off laughed. "You look so confused. It's rather endearing. I know I usually order for you, but I thought today it might be nice to ask what you want."

"Are you all right?" Vortex leaned in. "What's your temp?"

"I'm perfectly fine. In fact, better than fine. I haven't felt this good in vorns." 

Vortex slid off the desk. "I'm calling med support."

"It's not necessary," Blast Off said in a tone of voice that, had Vortex not known the shuttle so intimately, he might have described as happy. "Really, I'm perfectly fine. Now, gel or liquid? And what kind of additives? I think I'm in a titanium mood." 

"You are _never_ in a titanium mood," Vortex said. He crouched by Blast Off's chair and slipped a finger into the gap between the shuttle's aileron and his leg. Which would usually have earnt him a swift kick and a shout, but Blast Off merely looked politely down at him.

"What are you doing?" 

"Trying to work out your internal temp," he said. 

"I can patch you my stats."

"I... really don't wanna say this, but I don't think we should hook up right now." 

"Wirelessly?" Blast Off suggested.

"Nope." Vortex withdrew his finger. Running hot, just like on the news. "Did you get any software updates today?"

Blast Off caught Vortex's chin, tilting up his head. His purple optics were fever bright. "That is completely irrelevant to lunch. Now, are you hungry?"

"You have a virus," Vortex said. 

Blast Off's smile vanished, replaced by a look of intense concern. "It's you we should be worried about," he said, moving his hand to cradle Vortex's helm. "You're acting very strangely."

Vortex drew a deep vent. "You got a software update this morning, didn't you? The message told you it was from Altihex Space Division or that shuttle place or something?"

"Well yes, but that's hardly a rare occurrence."

"Did you verify it?"

"Now you're fussing," Blast Off said. "You look so tense. Come here."

Vortex stood, only just avoiding being manhandled into Blast Off's lap. Frag, this was difficult. "I'm taking you home."

Blast Off grabbed hold of a rotor, thumbing the tip. "You don't believe me when I say I feel fine?"

"That," Vortex said between clenched denta, "is exactly the point." Wincing, he stepped back, tugging his blades out of reach. He shot off a quick message to Gigabyte putting Blast Off on medical leave and letting her know to inform Onslaught. "If I let you do this, in two to three days you're _really_ going to hate me."

"I couldn't hate you. In truth I've become rather fond of you. I... don't know why I've never told you that before." 

"You did," Vortex said. "Last time we went to Luna One."

"I hardly think 'acceptable' and 'highly tolerable in the right circumstances' are terms of endearment," Blast Off sniffed. "You deserve better."

"Yes," Vortex said. "I do. Get your things, we're leaving." 

* * *

Getting Blast Off out of the building was hard. Getting him out without letting him speak to anyone was harder. Getting him home was almost impossible. He wanted to talk to everyone, he smiled at strangers, he made Vortex walk half a block to a cash dispenser so he could give a small fortune to a rust-stricken war veteran he accidentally crashed into when he was distracted by a street trader.

He wouldn't fly, he wouldn't think about getting on public transit - apparently that was too much even for happy-virus Blast Off - and he wanted to walk the long way home, to 'appreciate Kaon at its best', whatever the frag that meant. 

And he wanted to shop. He actually wanted to walk into actual non-virtual shops, to finger the merchandise, to buy things that other people - other people that weren't part of the chain of supply or a member of the elite - had touched. 

Vortex had never been so relieved as when they finally made it into Blast Off's apartment and the lock slid into place behind them. 

"You look frazzled," Blast Off commented. "You should have a lie down. Here, I'll get you a thermal blanket."

"Ah no!" Vortex stepped in front of him. "Not yet. We're grubby, we just got in. We're not gonna touch your stuff. OK?"

"A little dirt never harmed anyone. I have cleaning bots."

"This isn't a little dirt," Vortex said, resisting flicking his rotors. "We just walked through Kaon, we're filthy."

Blast Off set his bags down on a table. "That's very thoughtful, I suppose I shouldn't like to wake up and find smuts all over the furniture." Smiling that completely alien amiable smile Vortex had come to know during the past joor or so, Blast Off drew a line in the muck on Vortex's shoulder with his finger. There was a clear note of invitation in his energy field. 

"I feel gritty," Vortex commented. 

Blast Off looped an arm around him. "Perhaps I can help with that."

Smirking, Vortex let himself be led into the shower. This was safer ground. Blast Off couldn't hate him for something they'd done so many times in the past. Granted, not exactly like this. But there was only so much attentive slow stroking and gentle, meticulous cleansing he could take before all his struts were rubber and his thoughts had to surface through a muzzy cloud of contentment. Blast Off would be fine with it.

He had enough presence of mind to refuse a hardline connection, and thank Sigma the shuttle didn't force the point or Vortex would have had to call Catalyst to barricade them both in the apartment until the virus had purged. 

Overloading hard against the shower wall, Vortex clung as best he could to the shuttle's broad shoulders. He vented hard through the spray, cleaner and warmer and more tiredly pleased than he'd felt in as long as he could remember. Blast Off continued to stroke him as the shower went into its final rinse sequence and clear water washed away the rest of the solvent. 

Vortex slumped, and Blast Off lifted him. The water stopped, warm air buffeting them from all sides. Steam rose, and Vortex let his vision fade as smooth lips and a hot glossa traced a delightful pattern over his throat.

"We missed lunch," Blast Off commented. He revved his engine, the vibrations making Vortex gasp. "I'll book us a table at the Matrices in Crystal City. We can have something now to tide us over, then I'll fly you there. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Vortex bit on his own glossa to stop himself saying yes. "Virus," he mumbled. "Remember. We're staying in."

"It's only a short trip."

"Halfway round the world isn't a short trip." Vortex stretched in Blast Off's grasp, and shook the last drops from his rotors. The he wriggled until the hand that had been on his aft returned there. "Anyway, I like staying in." He looked up into Blast Off's oddly caring expression and calculated his chances. He'd come this far. "Let me buff you," he said. 

It was testimony to the strength of the virus that Blast Off agreed. 

* * *

Vortex could get used to this. He lay on his back on Blast Off's expensive sofa, head in the shuttle's lap and his rotors supported by a small mountain of extra cushions. They'd had to order the cushions in. And the extra wax, and some imported organic alien leather polishing cloths that Vortex knew cost the better part of an orn's salary but that Blast Off didn't even blink at paying for. And the tiny sticky energon treats that Blast Off occasionally brought out to press to Vortex's lips. 

Hand feeding, now that was the life. Blast Off waited patiently while Vortex licked the glutinous coating from his fingertips. His large engine continued to rumble, his energy field a fuzz of contentment. In the background, a mediafeed show about the Praxus-Altihex races chattered away to itself, the wall-sized screen throwing random colours around the room. 

"I still want to take you to Crystal City," Blast Off said. 

Just wait a few days, Vortex thought, but he was tired of saying it. "Later," he yawned. 

"Is there anything else I can get for you? Or perhaps you'd like to sleep while I get on with some work."

"No work!" Vortex squirmed until he was sitting upright in Blast Off's lap. "You're on sick leave, remember?" He pressed a finger to Blast Off's mouth before the shuttle could protest that he was fine. "Giga can cope. It's just another few days."

"If you insist," Blast Off said. He wove his fingers between Vortex's tail rotors. "But I don't want you getting bored." 

"Oh, now why would that be?" 

Blast Off fetched another treat from the box on a side table, made as though to give it to Vortex, then popped it in his own mouth. "Because," he said, "when you're bored you hurt people."

Vortex swing his legs around, straddling Blast Off's lap. "You're safe," he said, making eyes at the softly glowing box. 

"I know," Blast Off stated. "But other people aren't."

"You don't care about other people," Vortex said. "It's just the virus."

"Well yes," Blast Off replied, sounding not at all disturbed by the idea. "I ran a scan while you were flirting with the delivery bot. You're right, I do have a virus. And I know I'm behaving... differently than usual. But do you know what?" 

Vortex wasn't sure he wanted to ask, but he did anyway. "What?" 

"I rather think I like it." 

Laughter might not have been the most appropriate response, but Vortex couldn't help it. "You like it?"

"For now. It is most enjoyable."

"You know why I'm keeping you here, don't you?"

Blast Off nodded. "So you can take full advantage of my... altered state." He pinched the end of a rotor, making Vortex shiver. "And to prevent me from making a fool of myself in public."

"I'm just that thoughtful," Vortex said.

"No you're not," Blast Off replied, sounding perfectly happy about it. "You're selfish."

Vortex smirked. "What else am I?"

"You're manipulative," Blast Off said. "You're a scheming, sadistic killer who doesn't understand that there's a line between professional and personal. You're reckless and amoral, and you don't give a bit of thought to anything but your own enjoyment." He dipped his hand into the box and lifted one of the sticky glowing cubes to Vortex's mouth. "You're promiscuous and unprincipled, and you have no idea how to behave in proper society." He smiled as Vortex lapped at the treat. "But you're good at what you do, and I do so enjoy having you exactly where I want you."

"Why's that?" Vortex said, before taking a nibble of the treat. 

"Because I know you," Blast Off replied. "Because you forced your way into my life and I'm used to you now. Because you do things for me that no-one else does."

"I'm flattered," Vortex commented. He suckled on the treat, and on Blast Off's fingertips.

"It isn't meant to be a compliment," Blast Off said fondly. "You'll stay here until the virus has run its course?"

"Sure." Vortex finally got the whole treat into his mouth. He chewed on it in mock thoughtfulness. "I wasn't planning on going anywhere."

"Am I then to surmise that taking advantage of my current state is more attractive to you than your usual entertainments?"

"For now," Vortex said, taking his chances and moving in for a kiss. "But maybe you oughtta entertain me some more, just in case."

* * *

By the morning of the third day, the virus had begun to wear off. Vortex resisted recharge, laying sprawled over Blast Off's chest, fingertips toying with the shuttle's interface array with no real intention of doing anything other than waking him up. 

"Ugh." Blast Off slapped a hand over his own face, concealing the dim glow of his optics. 

"Hey there," Vortex said brightly. "How're you feeling?"

He was rewarded with a solid shove and a muttered, "Get fragged." Blast Off rolled onto his front and pressed his face into the bed.

"You're back to normal then," Vortex said. He stretched out curling himself around as much of the shuttle's bulk as he could. "Is it purged?"

Blast Off groaned. "I hate you."

"I rescued you," Vortex said. "You could have been spreading the love all over Kaon."

"I know. I still hate you."

Vortex nuzzled his shoulder. "No you don't." He inched his fingers back towards Blast Off's waist, and the gleaming ports and cables so helpfully exposed. "C'mon," he said, "Is it purged? I wanna frag."

Blast Off's engine growled, a low sinister vibration. The shuttle heaved himself up; he snatched Vortex's wrists and pinned them above his head, then flopped heavily down on the rotary's chest. Vortex felt the tingle of arousal grow, until Blast Off spoke. 

"I wanna sleep," he said. "And only one of us is getting what he wants." He yawned, and Vortex thought he'd slipped right into recharge, until he spoke again and it was clear the virus hadn't quite vanished from his systems. "Thank you."


End file.
